


Midnight, New Year's 2017

by benjji2795



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 1st chapter is NurseyDex, 2nd chapter will be Holsom, M/M, Midnight Kisses, New Year's Eve, Whiskey/Tango if you squint, Zimbits mention, boys struggling with their feelings, but what else is new
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-13 18:38:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9136645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benjji2795/pseuds/benjji2795
Summary: “So anyway…are we just going to ignore the fact that Poindexter has never been kissed at midnight?” he says and Dex refuses to turn his head to see the stupid smirk he’s sure Nursey is wearing.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here, have some New Year's midnight kisses. I don't know where exactly this came from, but my mind has been a treasure trove of ideas lately, and this one came into my head at just the right time to share it with y'all before New Year's. There are two parts to this fic--this first part, with Nursey and Dex, and the second part, where you'll get to see what happened with Ransom and Holster when they left the part (but that probably won't be posted until a day or two after New Year's day). Enjoy y'all! <3

“15 minutes until midnight!” Ryan Seacrest declares on the TV as Dex walks back to the couch another beer for himself and Nursey.

 

As he sits down, he takes a good look around the room at everyone gathered there with him in the Haus living room. He’s glad he’s here. Originally he’d been planning to spend the entire winter break with his family, but they were starting to seriously bother him by Christmas Eve. He had been steeling himself to just deal with it, but his papa must have noticed because he stopped by Dex’s room the day after Christmas and suggested that he go back to school early and spend New Years with his friends instead.

 

Initially, he gave his papa a non-committal shrug, because he wasn’t really sure that there would be anyone there if he went back early. But when he texted the group chat, saying that he was thinking he wanted to spend New Year’s at the Haus, he got several enthusiastic replies—one from Shitty ( _FUCK YEAH_ ), several from Bitty proposing snacks, one from Jack ( _sounds fun_ ), one from Nursey ( _sounds chill man_ ), and a few responses from a few others.

 

When all was said and done, Ransom, Holster, Shitty, Lardo, Jack, Bitty, Nursey, Tango and Whiskey all joined him at the Haus. Chowder wanted to come, but his flight was too expensive to change, and he wasn’t the only one too far away to come back. And the rest of the guys—well, they just didn’t want to come, Dex guesses.

 

Dex has had four beers already at this point, not counting the one currently in his hand, and his high tolerance means it’s not enough to feel very drunk, but he’s certainly feeling a pleasant buzz. Nursey’s only on his third, but his tolerance is lower than Dex’s, meaning his probably at about the same stage of drunkenness as him. Jack is completely sober, as usual, and Lardo seems to be unaffected despite having drunk almost as much as all of them put together, but everyone else there is schwasted (or at least close).

 

Dex’s eyes are on the TV but he’s not really watching. Everyone else is in the middle of their own conversations, but at just about ten minutes to midnight, the low buzz of conversation in the room is interrupted by a loud exclamation by Holster.

 

“Bro, what do you mean you won’t kiss me at midnight?!”

 

Everyone stops, conversations going silent as all eyes swivel on the two defensemen. Ransom takes his cup and throws what’s left in it back (Dex thinks he’s drinking some of the batch of tub juice Shitty had whipped up for the night). Ransom stares at his lap for a long minute before he looks up at Holster to answer him.

 

“I’m—I’m not going to kiss you at midnight just because,” he says quietly. “That’s not—that’s not how we work bro.”

 

“But _bro_ ,” Holster slurs, throwing an arm around Ransom’s shoulder and listing heavily into his side. “You know it’s bad luck if you don’t get kissed at midnight and like, who else am I gonna kiss?”

 

“I dunno bro,” Ransom says, shrugging. “But I’m sure you can find someone.”

 

“It’s really not that big of a deal. I’ve never been kissed at midnight and my luck hasn’t ever been—” Dex tries to offer up helpfully, but next to him, Nursey laughs, interrupting him.

 

“Are you kidding me? Your luck is actually shit Poindexter,” he says.

 

Dex rolls his eyes and elbows Nursey in the side lightly, trying to not get distracted by the warm feeling in his stomach he got because of Nursey’s laugh. “You’re one to talk, since you constantly trip and fall over nothing,” he retorts playfully.

 

“Hey, I’m just clumsy,” Nursey replies coolly, taking a sip of his beer. “That’s not the same thing as luck.”

 

“Oh whatever,” Dex huffs. Nursey grins, and Dex has to force himself to tear his eyes away from Nursey’s face, or else he’d just keep staring. Instead, he turns his eyes back to where Ransom and Holster are still sitting, the volume of their conversation steadily rising.

 

“Listen Holtzy, if getting kissed at midnight is that important to you ask like—I don’t know, ask Shitty if he’ll do it!” Ransom nearly shouts at Holster, gently pushing him back.

 

“Brah, I’m d—” Shitty starts to respond, but Lardo (not-so) subtly clears her throat and he stops. “I mean, sorry brah, I’m going to be busy at midnight.”

 

“Fine, then what about the tadpoles?” Ransom says, and there’s a hint of desperation in his voice that makes Dex’s eyebrows shoot up close to his hairline.

 

“Seriously Rans—”

 

“No! I’m going to do it!” Ransom roars, standing up suddenly, nearly knocking Holster off the armrest and onto the floor.

 

Holster recovers quickly and is immediately on his feet, moving so he’s standing in front of Ransom. “Justin,” he says softly, putting a hand on Ransom’s arm. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m just not going to kiss you at midnight!” Ransom snaps, jerking his arm away from Holster.

 

“You can’t bullshit me like that,” Holster replies.

 

“I need some air,” Ransom mumbles, shoving his way past Holster.

 

“Justin, wait,” Holster says, quickly walking after him. They turn the corner and go out of sight. A few seconds later, the back door slams, leaving the rest of them sitting in confused silence.

 

“What was that all about?” Tango asks, but Whiskey shakes his head.

 

“Now isn’t the time Tony,” he says quietly.

 

“Oh.”

 

Dex awkwardly looks down at his phone. Seven minutes to midnight. Well, this isn’t exactly how he pictured the night going. He figured they’d all get drunk and have a good time celebrating the New Year. Instead, Ransom and Holster are having some kind of falling out.

 

He’s more than surprised by this development. He knew that Ransom and Holster hadn’t seen each other much since they graduated Samwell. Ransom had been accepted to medical school in Boston and Holster got a job in Charlotte, NC. They had been apart for the first time in four years, but Dex didn’t think it would strain their friendship like that. Holster used to suggest things like that to Ransom all the time and it had never caused a problem before. He wonders why it’s suddenly a problem now.

 

His thoughts are interrupted by Nursey clearing his throat. “So anyway…are we just going to ignore the fact that Poindexter has never been kissed at midnight?” he says and Dex refuses to turn his head to see the stupid smirk he’s sure Nursey is wearing.

 

“Fuck off,” Dex replies, flipping Nursey off as his tries to will the flush creeping up his neck to stop. “Just because you’ll make out with anything that moves doesn’t mean that the rest of us are comfortable with that.”

 

“Sure you’re not just embarrassed you’ve never gotten kissed at midnight?” Nursey asks, almost cooing as he leans over so his face is altogether too close to Dex’s.

 

“No, I’m not embarrassed,” Dex mumbles because, even as his face starts to grow hot, he’s not embarrassed. At least, he’s not embarrassed that he’s never been kissed at midnight; he’s just embarrassed that he let it slip so Nursey found out.

 

“You are,” Nursey says, his mouth so close to Dex’s cheek that Dex can feel warm air hitting his face with every one of Nursey’s breaths. “But don’t worry Dexy, I’ll take care of that for you. I’ll kiss you at midnight.”

 

Dex immediately frowns as he feels his blood pressure spike. If it had been anyone else that made that suggestion, he wouldn’t even give a fuck. But it’s Nursey. Nursey, whom he shares the attic with. Nursey, who is his best friend and partner. Nursey, the boy that he’s almost certainly in love with.

 

See, the thing is that Dex is almost certain Nursey knows how he feels about him. He hates that he does, but it’s not anything he can change—he’s never been good about keeping his emotions off his face, so it was inevitable that he would find out. He hates it, but he can deal with it.

 

What he can’t stand is the way Nursey seems to be shoving it in his face. Ever since they moved in the attic together (which is probably about the time Nursey figured him out), Nursey has been pushing the limit with his flirting and causally sexually suggestive statements. And Dex has been able to deal with that. It’s the chirping he deserves for being so obvious. But Dex feels like this is way over the line.

 

“That’s not funny,” he almost snarls, roughly shoving Nursey away. “I’ve put up with a lot but that’s too far. It’s just mean and sick.”

 

Nursey’s expression hardens and his jaws shifts as he grits his teeth. “So it was all fun and games until I’m serious about something like kissing. Then it’s just sick. Because the idea of kissing guys makes you sick, right?” he challenges, his voice low and calm but intensely threatening. It would scare Dex, if Nursey wasn’t so off the mark.

 

“I—why is that what you always go to with me? Why is it, when I have any kind of reaction to gay stuff, you just immediately assume it’s a homophobic one? What have I ever done to make you think that?” Dex responds, his tone sharp, but short of anger, because he’s not angry. He’s just confused and frustrated.

 

He doesn’t get why, after three years (two of them as best friends), Nursey is still holding onto that perception of him. He thought that his complete non-reaction to Jack and Bitty telling them they were dating would’ve convinced him. If he wanted him to react like Chowder had, then Nursey should’ve known that wasn’t coming—that’s just not his style. A non-reaction should’ve been good enough, but apparently it wasn’t.

 

Nursey just shrugs in response. “I don’t know man, you just give off that vibe,” he states.

 

“I—you think I give off a homophobic vibe,” Dex says, trying to keep his jaw from hanging open (he’s not the only one trying to stifle a reaction; across the room, Bitty snorts into his cup).

 

“Yep,” Nursey answers, popping the ‘p’ as if to punctuate his point.

 

Dex stares at him for a long moment, because he’s not sure if Nursey is actually being serious. Over the last year he’s gotten more comfortable with his sexuality and—well, he’s been acting as gay as he can possibly manage and _everyone_ picked up on it. Or, judging by the sincere look on Nursey’s face, _almost_ everyone.

 

“I—fuck dude, you’re totally getting your signals crossed,” Dex says, scrubbing his hand down his face. “It’s that, or you’re just totally misreading them.”

 

“I don’t think I am,” Nursey responds, and Dex has to resist the urge to grab Nursey’s shoulders and shake him violently. Instead, he settles for placing a hand on Nursey’s shoulder as he sighs.

 

“Nursey, you’re an idiot. I’m not giving off a homophobic vibe. I couldn’t be ‘cause I’m actually really fucking gay.”

 

Nursey’s brow furrows. “You’re not—you’re—I’m sorry, what?” he says blankly, as if he hadn’t understood a word Dex has just said.

 

“You said that you think that I think the idea of kissing guys makes me sick. Well it doesn’t. I want to kiss guys,” Dex says, repeating what he said in different words, since Nursey doesn’t seem to be grasping how he said it the first time.

 

“I—no, that’s not right,” Nursey replies, harshly rubbing his eyes. “That’s not Dex I’m—I must be dreaming or something. _Fuck_.”

 

Dex can’t stop himself from reaching down and pinching Nursey’s arm.

 

“Ow!” Nursey yelps, yanking his arm back, resulting in him elbowing the back of the couch sharply. He grimaces, pulling his arm into his body as he gingerly rubs his elbow. “What was that for?” he asks Dex, glowering up at him.

 

“You said you thought you were dreaming,” Dex says, grinning slightly. “I was just making sure you knew you weren’t.”

 

“Okay fine, I’m not dreaming,” Nursey grumbles. “But if you’re gay and not homophobic, why did you get upset at my suggestion we kiss at midnight?”

 

“I got upset because I don’t appreciate being made fun of,” Dex explains.

 

“Why would I be making fun of you?” Nursey questions.

 

“Because you know I’m like, in love with you and you just _love_ taunting me about the fact that nothing’s ever going to happen,” Dex fumes, because Nursey should know exactly what he’s talking about.

 

“What I didn't catch that—you’re in what with me now?” Nursey asks, his eyes wide as he stares over at Dex.

 

Dex is about to throw his hands up and groan in frustration when it occurs to him that if Nursey didn’t know he was gay, it’s entirely possible he also has no clue about Dex’s feelings for him.

 

“Wait, I mean—fuck, you actually have no idea what’s been going on for the past year, do you?” Dex asks.

 

Nursey nods. “Um yah, so if you could tell me what’s going on—”

 

Dex buries his face in his hands, because he just revealed way too much, assuming that Nursey already knew when he was clueless. “Uh— _fuck_. Just like—ignore all of what I just said.”

 

“Not likely,” Nursey says, shaking his head. “Like, can we talk about how you didn’t tell me, your _best friend_ , that you were gay?”

 

“I—I didn’t feel comfortable just announcing it, okay! I’ve just like, been trying to be as obvious about it as possible! It’s not my fault you didn’t get it!” Dex moans (and God, how did he fall in love with the most oblivious guy on Earth?).

 

“I just—well shit, I guess I thought I had your vibe pinned down and I just like—ignored all the signals you were giving off,” Nursey sighs, his head falling onto the back of the couch with a soft thump.

 

“Yeah, well, that’s the problem with holding onto assumptions about people,” Dex replies.

 

“Fuck dude, you’re so right. I’m so sorry,” Nursey says, nudging Dex’s shoulder.

 

“It’s fine,” Dex murmurs, finally lowering his hands away from his face.

 

“It’s not really,” Nursey says. “But I’m glad you finally told me. And if I ever do something like that again—I don’t know, like maybe you should smack me.”

 

“I would gladly do that,” Dex says, laughing quietly.

 

“I bet you would,” Nursey replies, chuckling along with him.

 

_One minute to midnight!_

 

“So if—if you don’t have a problem with kissing guys then—well are you actually interested in kissing me at midnight?” Nursey asks. He’s grinning slightly, but there’s a flush high on his cheeks and he looks almost sheepish and his voice is shy as he asks. Dex kind of wants to stare at his face forever because he’s so pretty, but he shouldn’t. Just because Nursey is still in the dark about how he feels, that doesn’t mean he actually has a legitimate chance with Nursey.

 

“I want to, but I don’t think we should,” Dex murmurs. “Just—with the way I feel about you, it’s not a good idea.”

 

Nursey’s breath hitches. “How—how do you feel about me?”

 

“I shouldn’t—” Dex starts to say before changing his mind. “Oh fuck it, I’m in love with you, okay?”

 

_Thirty seconds to midnight!_

 

“You are?” Nursey asks, sounding completely dumbstruck.

 

Dex can only nod, avoiding his looking at his face.

 

“Thank fuck,” Nursey breathes out softly. “I’m in love with you too. Have been for like, forever.”

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Ch’yeah.”

 

_Ten! Nine! Eight!_

 

“So are we going to do this?” Nursey asks.

 

Dex just puts his hand on the back of Nursey’s neck and pulls him closer.

 

_Five! Four! Three!_

 

Dex can’t even wait for midnight. He pulls Nursey in and connects their lips. Kissing Nursey is soft, slow, and lazy, and Dex never wants to pull back.

 

_Two! One! Zero!_

 

The New Year rings in with them kissing softly, and Dex gets the feeling that, even though this is his first New Year’s midnight kiss, it won’t be last. He can feel that he’ll be getting midnight kisses every year for a long time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me to me: how did the "side" part of this fic end up longer than the main part?  
> Me: *shrugs*

Justin’s only a block away from the Haus when he pulls his car over to the side of the road and comes to a stop. He’s seriously considering telling everyone he’s not feeling well and turning around to go back to Boston. Actually, that’s exactly what he’d do, if he didn’t think Holster would take it as an invitation to come over and take care of him. And well, Holster is the reason he’s having this debate with himself in the first place.

 

It’s been almost seven months since they last saw each other in person. Holster had taken a job in Charlotte and his employer wanted him to start just two weeks after graduation. So once the ceremony was over, they loaded all of Holster’s stuff into his car and drove down to Holster’s new place. Justin helped him move in, and then flew back to Toronto for a couple months off before starting med school in Boston.

 

Holster hasn’t talked about his job much but med school—well, it hasn’t been easy on Justin. Every class is about ten notches of difficulty over his classes at Samwell, the professors demand so, so much of him and everyone is at least as smart as him and—

 

Well, if he’s being honest, he’s been handling most of those aspects just fine. The problem is Holster—or more specifically, the absence of Holster’s physical being. He knew going in that, intellectually, he would be able to keep up with the mental demands of med school. But emotionally, it’s a different story.

 

Holster was always the one who would pry him away from his books if he were in need of a break, and he was the one who always knew when it was better to leave him to his own device. He was the one who would give him a hug and whisper that it would be okay when it started to feel like too much. He was anxious most of the time and he knows he pushed himself harder than he should have during the semester.

 

He felt powerless to stop because without Holster he just feels—lost. He feels like a giant piece of himself is missing, and, one night halfway through the semester, as he was curled up under a table in the library, he realized that he missed more than just Holster’s support when he was having a hard time. It was also his loud, hearty laugh and his blinding, toothy smile and his dorky jokes and the way he would randomly start singing and the way he would incorporate _30 Rock_ and _Parks and Recreation_ into his every day conversation and—that was the moment it hit him. The reason he missed Holster so badly was because—well, _shit_ , because he’s in love with him.

 

It’s a revelation that’s been sitting heavily on his chest and mind ever since. With every text, every snap, every Skype conversation, he would look at the words on his screen, see Holster’s face on his phone and laptop and hear _you love him you love him you love him_ repeat in his head, sometimes threatening to burst out of him.

 

And he’d watch carefully. He’d examine Holster’s face carefully, read between the lines of every text he’d received, hoping for some hint that maybe, just maybe, Holster was having the same feelings. That maybe, when Holster looks at him, he has the same thoughts. A few times he thought it was there; a twinkle in Holster’s eye, a quirk of his lips like there was something he wanted to say that he was holding back. But it was always there and gone in a instant, and Justin would come away sure that he was only seeing what he wanted to see.

 

Justin rests his forehead on the steering wheel, taking slow, measured breaths. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen when he sees Holster for the first time in what feels like a lifetime, doesn’t know what Holster is going to do—doesn’t know what _he’s_ going to do. Will it be a hug? Will they do something awkward like shake hands? Or is seeing Holster’s face going to overcome all his common sense and make him do something stupid, like try and kiss him? Justin can’t say and that terrifies him.

 

As he’s considering this, his phone buzzes. Picking it up, he looks at the screen. It’s a text from Holster, to the group chat, tell them _I’ll be there in a few_. Taking one more deep breath, Ransom decides that it’s too late to turn back now. Putting the car in drive, he pulls back onto the road and drives the last block to the Haus.

 

He steps out of his car, smoothing his hands down his thighs, and begins to walk up to the porch. He’s just at the top step when he hears a car pull up.

 

“Ransom!”

 

Holster’s voice calls out to him just a brief second later. Justin stops, drawing in a breath before he slowly turns to face Holster.

 

“H-hey Holtzy,” he says roughly, running a hand over his scalp as he brings his eyes up to look at Holster.

 

He tries to keep his breath from audibly hitching as he catches his first glimpse of him in almost seven months. And maybe it’s because he’s aware of the depths of his feelings for him, Justin feels as if he’s seeing him for the first time, from his tall stature to his short blonde hair and soft blue eyes behind his square, wire-framed glasses.

 

Justin feels paralyzed, unsure of what of how to react. He’s not sure what’s natural for them anymore because there’s too much emotion clouding his judgment. But it doesn’t matter because Holster closes the gap between their bodies, striding forward and wrapping Ransom up in a hug.

 

“I missed you bro,” Holster whispers.

 

Justin feels the tightness in his chest uncoil just a bit. This—Holster’s arms—it feels like home and God, he missed this so much. He sags into Holster slightly, resting his cheek on the side of Holster’s head. “I missed you too, Adam,” Justin whispers back, Holster’s first name slipping out of him by accident.

 

Holster doesn’t seem to notice that he referred to him differently than usual, hugging him for a few more seconds before pulling back. He flashes Justin a grin that makes his pulse quicken, and claps him on the shoulder as he turns toward the door. “How about you and I head in and get this party started?” he says in a sing-song manner.

 

Justin swallows and nods, stepping into the Haus after Holster, trying not to look at his ass as he does and _fuck_ , this is going to be a long night.

 

They end up settling on one of the large armchairs in the living room, Justin sitting on it normally, and Holster perched on the armrest. To start with he leans against the back of the chair, but as the night wears on and they both get drunker, he begins to list into Justin and despite himself, Justin lets him, even allowing him to put an arm around his shoulders.

 

They talk about a lot of things throughout the night—Justin’s classes, Holster’s job, the Falconers, and the current Samwell team. Justin slips back into talking to Holster naturally, not that he should be surprised. They still talked quite a bit over the last seven months; they just didn’t see each other in person. And with the alcohol in his system, Justin almost forgets that this should feel awkward because he’s in love with Holster and Holster’s literally draped all over him and—

 

“So Rans, how goes the love life?” Holster slurs, and suddenly he feels very, _very_ awkward.

 

“Oh. I haven’t uh—” Justin pauses. He was hoping this wouldn’t come up but now that it has—well, he’s going to need a long drag of tub juice. “I haven’t really gone out much,” he says once he takes a drink. “I’ve just been really um—” _pining over you_ “—busy.”

 

Holster doesn’t seem to notice how off Justin’s reply is as he nods understandingly. “Yeah, work has been killing me too,” he says, gesturing vaguely with his cup. “Joining a small firm was like, probably a good idea, okay? But the hours are just like—I’m working so much. Which is a shame because like, there are so many hot people in Charlotte.”

 

Justin’s stomach churns as a picture of Holster walking down the street with his hand in the hand of another man or woman pops into his head. “Yeah that—that sucks bro,” he forces out quietly.

 

“I mean, I was gonna go out tonight cause New Year’s eve, but then Dex wanted to do this here and like, how could I say no to hangin’ out with my bros, y’know?” Holster says, nudging Justin as he smiles at him, and Justin’s chest feels tight and warm. “’Specially you.”

 

“You didn’t have—”

 

“Still, it kinda sucks I’m not gonna get kissed at midnight,” Holster sighs before taking a drink of his beer.

 

Another unwanted image pops into Justin’s head, the image of Holster kissing someone as the ball drops, and he quickly pushes it away. “It’s—I’m sure you’ll be fine without one,” he replies.

 

“Bro, you don’t understand,” Holster says. “The last time I didn’t get a New Year’s kiss was when I was thirteen and that was like, the worst year of my life.”

 

“I—you were a freshman in high school, I’m pretty sure that’s an awful year for everyone,” Justin responds hesitantly because he doesn’t like where this could—where it _will_ end up, knowing Holster as well as he does.

 

“Bro, you don’t understand, this was like, ten times worse than any year I’ve had since then,” Holster counters.

 

“Just because it happened then doesn’t mean—” Justin starts to say, but Holster continues on.

 

“Listen dude, you don’t understand, I’ve _got_ to get kissed at midnight,” Holster almost whines.

 

“Who are you going to—” Justin begins to ask before realizing that was the wrong thing to say, because Holster’s eyes light up as he looks at him.

 

“Bro! You and I should totally kiss at midnight!” Holster exclaims excitedly.

 

Justin slides down the chair, hunching in on himself slightly. Holster nearly falls over on top of him (because he was leaning on him so heavily), but he regains his balance after a second and sits up. “I—I don’t think so,” Justin mumbles, because kissing Holster is the absolute last thing he wants to happen tonight.

 

“No, listen, this is perfect!” Holster chatters on enthusiastically. “You and I are best bros and this way we can get midnight kisses without it being some stranger and even better, it doesn’t have to mean anything!”

 

“ _No_ ,” Justin replies, more forcefully than he means to, and he’s not sure whether the visceral reaction is to kissing Holster or Holster’s assertion that it won’t mean anything.

 

“No?”

 

“No. Absolutely not.”

 

“Bro, what do you mean you won’t kiss me at midnight?!” Holster exclaims, loud enough for the whole room to hear.

 

The low buzz that had been filling the room stops as all eyes turn to them. Justin looks down at his cup, judging how much tub juice is left in it. It’s no more than two or three mouthfuls, so Justin raises the cup to his lips and drinks down the rest of it. Staring at his lap for a minute, fighting off the fogginess in his head from the alcohol already in his system as he tries to come up with a reply.

 

“I’m—I’m not going to kiss you at midnight just because,” he finally says quietly. “That’s not—that’s not how we work bro.”

 

“But _bro_ ,” Holster slurs, throwing an arm around him, listing back into his side. “I already told you it’s gonna be bad for me if I don’t get kissed at midnight and like, who else am I gonna kiss?”

 

“I dunno bro,” Justin says, shrugging as he avoids looking Holster in the eye. “But I’m sure you can find someone here who’ll do it.”

 

“It’s really not that big of a deal. I’ve never been kissed at midnight and my luck hasn’t ever been—” Dex tries to offer up helpfully from across the room, but next to him, Nursey laughs, interrupting him.

 

“Are you kidding me? Your luck is actually shit Poindexter,” he says.

 

Dex rolls his eyes and elbows Nursey in the side lightly, and Justin stops paying attention to them because he knows they’re just going to start bickering, which does nothing to help him in his situation with Holster.

 

“No one here is as perfect for me to kiss at midnight as you!” Holster counters when he comes to the same realization as him.

 

Justin frowns, because usually Holster isn’t this dense. He’s made it pretty clear that he doesn’t want to do this, so why won’t he back off? “Listen Holtzy, if getting kissed at midnight is that important to you ask like—I don’t know, ask Shitty if he’ll do it!” he ends up nearly shouting at Holster as gently pushes him back.

 

“Brah, I’m d—” Shitty starts to respond, but Lardo (not-so) subtly clears her throat and he stops. “I mean, sorry brah, I’m going to be busy at midnight.”

 

Holster continues to look at him pleadingly, and Justin can’t help the hint of desperation that creeps into his voice as he suggests, “Fine, then what about the tadpoles?”

 

“Seriously Rans—” Holster starts to say, and Justin breaks. He’s not going to kiss him at midnight, he _can’t_. Holster keeps insisting that it won’t mean anything but for Justin it will. It will mean so much and when they break apart and Holster smiles at him as if nothing is different, it will utterly crush him. A taste of what could be if the world was different will be worse than never having it at all.

 

“No! I’m going to do it!” he yells, standing up suddenly and he’s so upset that he doesn’t even care that he nearly knocks Holster off the armrest and onto the floor.

 

But Holster recovers quickly and is immediately on his feet, stepping in front of him. “Justin,” he says softly, putting a hand on his arm. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m just not going to kiss you at midnight!” Justin snaps, jerking his arm away from Holster.

 

“You can’t bullshit me like that,” Holster replies, and Justin knew that he was going to say that. He was just hoping that maybe—maybe Holster would let this one go (even though he’s never let him get away with hiding something troubling him before).

 

“I need some air,” he mumbles, shoving his way past Holster, because he doesn’t want to do this here.

 

“Justin, wait,” he hears Holster call out after him, and Justin can hear his footsteps walking after him, but he continues to head for the back porch, yanking the door open and slamming it closed in Holster’s face (not that that will stop him).

 

Justin braces himself against the porch railing, trying to get a handle on his breathing. He’s already really regretting his outburst, not because he yelled at Holster, but because it was a sure sign to Holster that something was wrong and he won’t leave him alone until he tells him what’s going on and that—well Justin isn’t sure that Holster is going to like what he’ll have to say.

 

The door opens and closes quietly after a few minutes, and Holster takes the few steps over to the railing to be beside him. He stands there quietly for a few minutes, the sounds of their breathing and the tinny TV the only sounds Justin can hear. And as much as he wishes it wasn’t helping him, Holster’s presence calms him down and makes it easier to breathe. Then Holster inhales deeply, preparing to speak, and the panic starts to rise in him a bit.

 

“I know I was pushing you a bit in there but why are you—we talked and joked about doing that stuff all the time before so I don’t—you’re upset and I don’t think it’s just because of what I said just now so—I guess I wanna know what I _really_ did?” Holster says, laying his hand over top Justin’s, and Justin wants to pull away, but he can’t, not when Holster’s hand is so big and warm and comforting to him. “I mean, I know we haven't seen each other much the last few months and things haven’t exactly been the same but I don't—I didn’t think we had changed _that_ much so I guess—I’m wondering if you’re mad at me for something else and I—I want you to tell me what so I can apologize for it.”

 

Justin shakes his head. “There’s nothing you have to apologize for.”

 

“But you're—”

 

“I'm not mad at you I just—I miss you, okay?” Justin interrupts before Holster can say something about being angry with him again, because he’s not. He doesn’t think he ever could be. That’s why they’re out here, having this conversation now.

 

“Justin—Justin, look at me,” Holster reaches over with his other hand and puts it on the side of his face, gently trying to turn his head—not that he needed to do that, because Justin was already turning his head at the sound of his first name rolling off of Holster’s tongue. “I know—I know things haven’t been the same and we haven't talked as much as I wish we could but I think I still know you like the back of my hand and I—I know there's something you're not telling me.”

 

“Adam—” Justin murmurs, feeling himself start to shake slightly.

 

“Is it that I couldn't find a job in Boston? Are you still upset that we couldn’t be together after graduation?” Holster asks, and Justin shakes his head even as Holster continues speaking. “Because I promise you, I tried to find a job in Boston. I tried so hard. I didn't want to send you off to med school by yourself but—but no one in Boston wanted me.”

 

“It's—it’s not that Adam, I know you tried,” Justin answers. Holster thinks he was too busy being in coral reef mode to notice how stressed he was when he was looking through job postings, but he noticed. He noticed, and he wishes he could’ve done more to help him but med school applications and final exams meant that it was hard for him to do a lot about it, other than just be there with him.

 

“Okay, then are you upset that I haven't been able to talk to you as much? Because I've been trying—”

 

“Adam, I know you are—”

 

“Do you? Because I really have been trying, but it's just been so hard because I've been working killer hours and I know you've got classes and you've also got to study and I just—” Holster starts to ramble.

 

“Adam, I know you're trying!” Justin interrupts, because and he knows Holster’s grasping at straws now and he needs to know that this has nothing to do with anything he did, it’s all on him. “I know you’re trying and I promise I'm not upset with you! I'm—I'm actually just upset with myself, okay?”

 

Holster’s expression goes soft as he strokes his thumb along Justin’s jawline. “Rans—Justin, whatever this is about, I _know_ you’ve been doing your best. I know you are, and whatever happened I'm so proud of you—”

 

Justin exhales softly. Of course Holster would think he’s beating himself up about an exam or assignment or something that happened during the semester. He’s done it so often but that’s not even—this time, he’s far off the mark.

 

“It's not about school. I'm—I'm actually doing great, okay?” he says, watching as Holster’s brow furrows slightly in confusion. “It's harder without you, sure, but I'm really getting along just fine.”

 

“If that’s not what’s going then what’s—what’s bothering you so much?” Holster asks, and there’s so much concern writ all over his face and in his eyes that Justin knows that he’s powerless to stop the words from spilling out of his mouth.

 

Justin anxiously scratches the back of his neck. “It’s seeing you again because—because I’m—I’m in love with you,” he whispers. He’s staring into Holster’s eyes the whole time he says it, and something shines in them that he’s never seen before.

 

Holster is silent for a long time before he answers. “Justin I—I had no idea you felt that way,” he says, his tone cautious and guarded.

 

Justin starts to panic because his face is so different from normal and he can’t read Holster’s reaction at all and it’s _never_ a good thing when he can’t read Holster. “I didn't—I really had no idea either until—well, until you weren't there and I felt—I felt like a piece of me was missing and I like missed your smile and your laugh and your dorky jokes and I—I just wanted you there like, every second,” he babbles.

 

Holster’s expression changes to something more recognizable, an almost dazed look, but there’s something in it that’s foreign to Justin. “You mean, you wanted me there in like, a relationship kind of way?”

 

Justin nods rapidly. “I feel so stupid ‘cause like I know we grew kinda co-dependent while we were here but I also know that even so I'll never be as important to you as you are to me but I—I just feel so empty without you.”

 

“Justin—”

 

Justin laughs nervously as he forges on. “I know this must be so uncomfortable for you like, I mean it’s not every day your best bro tells you that he wants to kiss you and cuddle you and like, never leave your side but I’ve been keeping this inside for months and I feel so guilty about keeping it from you because we’ve never kept secrets from each other—”

 

“I have been,” Holster says quietly.

 

“—and I—wait, what?” Justin says, stopping in his tracks as he hears and understands Holster’s words. “You’ve been keeping secrets from me?”

 

“Not really. It’s just one but,” Holster says weakly, biting his lip. “But it’s a big one.”

 

“Are you serious?” Justin questions, and Holster nods. “What is it?”

 

“I’m in love with you too,” Holster says, and Justin feels his jaw start to drop. “I have been since we were freshman.”

 

“For real?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I—how have you been able to keep it in for so long? It’s only been like, 3 months for me and I’ve had such a hard time keeping it from you. I—I probably was going to end up saying something before you left to go home,” Justin says, staring at Holster, eyes wide in amazement. “And you’ve known for like, four years and lived in the same room as me for like two and you never— _how_?”

 

Holster shrugs. “I—sometimes, I look back and to be honest, I don't really know, because a lot of days I felt like I was dying inside. But I think—maybe I managed it because I loved you so much that I wanted to be sure that I didn't put you in an awkward situation. I didn’t think you were interested and I guess—well, as long as you were happy and comfortable and I could be there to help you and we were the best of bros—I guess I felt like that was good enough. Like that was all I could ask from you. That was what I had to be content with and I—I was. Sure I wanted more, but I would take that. So that made it easy to keep that inside. As long as things were good, why would I do anything to jeopardize that?”

 

“Wow I’m—I’m impressed,” Justin says. “But I—I could’ve handled it if you said something.”

 

“Maybe. Maybe not,” Holster replies. “But you know—”

 

“Coral reef,” they both say at the same time.

 

“Yeah,” Justin says as they grin at each other. Justin gazes into Holster’s eyes and—oh. _Oh_. Now he sees it, the light in Holster’s eyes when he looks at him. Or, more accurately, he’s seeing it the right context for the first time.

 

At that moment, a cacophony erupts from the TV, and they both turn to look at the screen.

 

“Oh. We missed midnight,” Justin frowns.

 

“That’s okay,” Holster says, resting his forehead on Justin’s. “We still have a few seconds before it’s 12:01.”

 

“Well, then I guess there’s no time to waste,” Justin responds before closing the gap and sealing their lips together in a long, soft kiss.

 

When they pull away (Holster first, probably because he ran out of air first), Holster chuckles softly. “You know, I have a feeling that wouldn’t have needed that midnight kiss to have a good year.”

 

“Yeah, me too.”


End file.
